Chapter 2

"She's here, she's here, the bride is finally coming out." Quite a few reporters had already gathered outside the church.

"Miss Olivia, how do you feel on your wedding day?"

"Miss Olivia, what do you think about the wedding of the century that Mr. Xavier prepared for you?"

I didn't say anything and got into the car under the bodyguards' escort.

Xavier stood on the steps in his white groom's suit, wearing a smile that said everything was under his control.

This morning he called to say he'd had sex seven times last night, his body couldn't take it, he needed to catch up on sleep, and couldn't come pick up his bride.

He was certain I would come.

Xavier's friend Matthew was the first to whistle: "She still came!"

He nudged Xavier with his elbow, his face full of suggestive amusement:

"Xavier's got the magic touch—partying the night before the wedding, and the bride still shows up in her wedding dress. What do you call that? That's what I call proper training!"

Another friend chimed in:

"No kidding, the way he went at it in bed yesterday, anyone else would've been wrecked, but Xavier can still stand here as the groom. Gotta respect that."

Several of them laughed, and Xavier's lips curved slightly.

His tone was casual: "Olivia's been with me for ten years. Besides marrying me, who else would want her?"

He glanced down at the engagement ring I'd taken off yesterday:

"Throwing a little tantrum is normal. But in the end—"

He paused, his voice confident: "She'll still walk up to me and put her hand in mine."

Matthew gave him a thumbs up.

The car door opened, and I stepped out in my white dress.

Sunlight fell on the wedding gown, refracting into scattered sparkles.

A flash of amazement crossed Xavier's eyes, and he sincerely commented:

"Olivia looks so beautiful in a wedding dress!"

But before he could touch my hand, his vibrating phone pulled his attention away.

He looked at the name on the screen.

His lips unconsciously curved upward, and he stepped aside to answer it.

"What's wrong? Didn't I tell you to call later?"

A lazy, coquettish voice came from the other end:

"Xavier, I'm flying abroad this afternoon. So I made an appointment to register our marriage in ten minutes. Can you come to City Hall? I want to get the marriage certificate before I leave."

"Ten minutes?" Xavier chuckled softly, "That urgent?"

After hanging up, Matthew came over: "Who was that?"

"Windsor." Xavier put his phone in his pocket, his eyes brightening,

"She's flying abroad this afternoon and insists on getting the certificate before she leaves. She's being so sweet I can't say no."

Matthew raised an eyebrow: "What about the wedding here—"

"What's the rush?" Xavier didn't seem concerned, "The wedding ceremony takes an hour or two. I'll just go to City Hall first, it's a ten-minute thing.

You know Windsor's personality—if I don't humor her, she'll actually cry at the airport."

Matthew wisely didn't say more.

Xavier walked toward me, put his arm around my shoulder, and had the nearby photographer raise his camera:

"Come on, take a picture of me, for the memories."

Click. Done.

He glanced at his watch, "Alright, that's it for now. I have to go or I'll miss the appointment."

He turned and strode toward another car.

"Xavier!" I stood where I was and called out to him.

He paused and looked back at me.

His expression still carried that careless confidence of someone who had everything under control.

"If you leave today," I said word by word, "I'll replace the groom at this wedding."